


Even If Things Get Heavy We'll All Float On

by missgoalie75



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 06:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7879702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missgoalie75/pseuds/missgoalie75
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Blaine's always stupidly scared about Kurt finding something in him that he not only won't like, but also won't be able to accept.</i>| [3x14 Reaction Fic - published 3/4/12]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even If Things Get Heavy We'll All Float On

**Author's Note:**

> **Characters/Pairings:** Blaine, Quinn, Emma, Santana, Brittany, Kurt, Karofsky; Blaine/Kurt  
>  **Spoilers/WARNINGS:** through 3x14; discussion of suicide in possibly offensive points of view, language  
>  **Disclaimer:** The title is from "Float On" by Modest Mouse; the lyrics used are from "Cough Syrup" by Young Like Giants, "Carry On" by Fun. and "Here's to Us" by Halestorm.
> 
> **A/N:** Thanks to Nikki for her beta work on this. I'm transferring some old fic to AO3 and even though this episode was a huge mess, I'm still fond of this fic.

When Blaine first walks into school, he overhears Ms. Pillsbury telling Figgins to make a morning announcement that her door is always open for those who want to talk. He has to admire her perseverance on actually trying to make this school a better place – it's refreshing and so different to what he remembers about public school before Dalton.

He mindlessly touches his bowtie, making sure it's resting properly against his throat – he was having trouble with it this morning, but he's not sure if it's because it's new, or because he was having trouble coordinating himself.

Blaine feels raw and a little discombobulated – it doesn't help that Kurt is closing in on himself and it's been happening since he performed "Cough Syrup" two days ago. After finding out about Karofsky, he immediately dismissed the song, knowing he won't be able to perform it again, let alone in front of hundreds of people.

( _A dark world aches for a splash of the sun oh oh_.)

The song is starting to bring back blood-tainted memories that he likes to let rest, but it's harder now that whispers of Karofsky are echoing in the halls.

He passes by Kurt at his locker and tries to smile, even though it's so obviously fake. His heart hurts at seeing Kurt's red-rimmed eyes and he wants to _do_ something, but Kurt won't let him, which is frustrating in itself.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Blaine hates it – this weighted awkwardness that's unnatural and _wrong_ ; this isn't who they are.

"Are you –?"

"Sorry, I have to go – I have a test that I barely studied for in English," Kurt interrupts Blaine with a faint smile that comes as quickly as it goes. "I'll see you later." He taps Blaine's arm before walking away, his shoulders hunched and Blaine wants to punch a locker.

_Shit._

**

From behind, Kurt passes by Blaine without a word, who doesn't notice until Kurt is halfway down the hallway. Blaine opens his mouth to call after him, but his voice gets stuck at the sight of Quinn fiddling with the cross around her neck, _glaring_ at Kurt as they pass each other.

She catches Blaine's gaze and purses her lips, not saying anything. But just as they're about to pass each other, Blaine gently takes Quinn's wrist, stopping her. "Hey, are you okay?" he asks.

She swallows and looks down at her feet, an eyebrow quirked. "Not really, no."

He lets go of her, feeling stupid because _duh_ , no one is _okay_. "Do you want to talk?" And now he feels even more ridiculous because they've barely talked at all; he doubts that out of everyone she knows, she'd want –

"Do you want to eat lunch outside? It's actually a little warm today," Quinn offers, hesitant as if he'll change his mind and go on his way.

Surprised, he nods. "Okay, yeah. Uh, I just have to grab my coat."

"Me too. I'll meet you outside on the steps in five?"

"Sounds good."

**

Blaine planned on buying lunch today, but he's not very hungry so he sits down on the stairs empty-handed. The sun is shining brightly above him and he's considering taking off his coat when his phone vibrates in his pocket.

From Kurt Hummel ♥:  
 _Where are you??_

Blaine winces, immediately responding with: _Sorry I'm having lunch with Quinn outside today – totally spur of the moment_.

From Kurt Hummel ♥:  
 _You scared me._

Blaine pauses, confused by the words on the screen. Kurt wasn't seriously thinking that he'd –

From Blaine Anderson ♥:  
 _You know I would never do that._

From Kurt Hummel ♥:  
 _I know, just. I'm kind of a mess. I'm barely functioning at the moment._

"Hey."

Blaine looks up from his phone to smile at Quinn, who's taking a seat on the step below his and opening her brown paper bagged lunch.

From Blaine Anderson ♥:  
 _I know. I'll talk to you later, okay? xo_

From Kurt Hummel ♥:  
 _Okay x_

Blaine pockets his phone. "Sorry," he says as she pulls out a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

She eyes him curiously. "I would've waited for you to get lunch, you know."

"It's fine, I'm not very hungry," he dismisses.

She tears her sandwich into two halves, handing one to him. "Please take it."

He doesn't really want it, but she has a steel gaze that he can't imagine fighting against, so he takes it and starts automatically tearing off the crust.

She smiles at him – really smiles – and says, "Still don't like the crust?"

He flushes, placing them on the step for him to throw away later. "No. Never liked how dry it is."

She nods. "I didn't like crust for years. I mean what kid does? But I don't know, one day I guess I got lazy and just forgot to take them off. So."

He almost wants to laugh at this situation – he's pretty sure they shouldn't be talking about taking crusts off sandwiches.

"I've actually been thinking about seeing Ms. Pillsbury. About – you know," she admits quietly, ripping her half of a sandwich into two more pieces. "But it seems strange. Especially since I could've gone to her for so many other things."

He shrugs his shoulders, taking a small bite of his sandwich. "I don't think there's a right or wrong time to talk to someone."

"Have you?"

"What – talked to a guidance counselor?"

"Yeah, but, not about classes or anything. Just…about personal things. Like you would to a psychologist or therapist."

Blaine purses his lips as he stares ahead. "Yeah, a therapist. A bit. Didn't really last long – I found another outlet that worked better."

"Oh."

He looks to her, eyes softening. "I think it's fantastic for some people. Just not for me."

Sometimes he wishes it were, though. He'll go at a punching bag, a part of him hating himself for needing sore hands and sweat stinging in his eyes in order to feel more human. He wishes he could just let this roll off his back like Kurt can, but –

"Maybe you just need to find the right person," she says, but he thinks it's more to herself than to him.

"Yeah, maybe." He takes a bigger bite of the sandwich, now grateful since he's noticing how empty his stomach is. Once he's done chewing, he asks, "I know we're not very close, but if you're not comfortable talking to Ms. Pillsbury, you can always talk to me."

"Even though I glared at your boyfriend in the hallway a few minutes ago?"

He's surprised she's bringing it up without his prodding. "I'm not blind to Kurt's faults, you know."

"You wouldn't think so with the way you look at him – like he's your everything."

Blaine shrugs, feeling his cheeks warm up – he really is obvious, isn't he? "I'm sure you have a legitimate reason to glare at him. I just don't know what it is."

Quinn laughs, but it doesn't reach her eyes and he represses a shudder. "Wow. You don't think I'm crazy for it?"

It's a hard question to answer because before Blaine really got involved with New Directions, when Quinn was nothing more than a name on a relationship chart and a vague memory of an All-American Girl singing happily with the All-American Boy during Sectionals, he _did_ question her sanity out of pity and lack of truly knowing her.

He just thinks it's so unfair that her, _their_ friends would say things like that about her when they were there, witnessing what she was going through.

"Why are you angry at Kurt?" he asks kindly.

To his surprise, tears fill her eyes and he's so _shocked_ that Kurt caused this in one way or another. "I know suicide is a hard subject to breach, especially right now. I have my opinions and beliefs. I know the person in question feels like they have nowhere to turn to and are feeling things that hurt too much. It's tragic, it really is. But. All I can think about is Karofsky taking the time to dress in his Sunday best, making sure his parents find him. Karofsky may be alive, which is a blessing, but Mr. Karofsky will _never_ forget seeing his son like that, feeling that awful, indescribable feeling that he might've been too late to save him. It's a level of selfishness that I find unforgivable."

Then she stares at Blaine in a confronting way, as if daring him to contradict her and he wonders if she's hoping he will, as if to make up for what she wasn't able to do with Kurt.

He licks his lips, putting down his sandwich on the step because there's no way he can eat anymore.

"I feel sorry for Karofsky, of course I do, but his family is suffering too and worth being in people's thoughts and prayers."

Blaine nods, feeling a little out of his element – he's not a trained professional and maybe she'd benefit more from someone like Ms. Pillsbury, but he can't just stop her now, so he waits, hoping it will all come together so he can form his own thoughts, which are all over the place.

"I'm angry with Kurt for belittling my sufferings. I'm angry at his _storming_ into the God Squad and conducting it like he didn't spend weeks _mocking_ that same God last year. Sorry, but it certainly didn't feel like the world _loved_ me when nobody seemed to give a damn about me." A tear falls down her cheek, which she wipes away quickly. " _Have some compassion_ , he told me, and I wanted to _scream_ back that he didn't seem to have any for me after I moved back in with my mom."

Not trusting his voice at the moment, he slides down a step so he's sitting next to Quinn. He knows Kurt can be narrow-minded sometimes, but this is just –

"I haven't really talked with Kurt since we found out about Karofsky. I had no idea he went to the God Squad," he admits in a low voice. "I just…I don't know what to say. To any of it. He's hurt and lost and lashing out and you don't deserve to be on the receiving end of it. Your beliefs aren't invalid and," he shakes his head, needing to focus on his breathing.

_This is so_ fucked up – it's all he can think now.

"You must have an opinion about all this," she finally asks after a minute of silence.

"About Karofsky?"

"Karofsky…suicide…Kurt's feelings about it…"

Blaine shifts uncomfortably on the concrete step. "I don't feel comfortable talking about Kurt's feelings when I haven't had a proper discussion with him about them. But I understand where Karofsky's head was at a little too well. And the idea of finding your child hanging is really enough to make me sick to my stomach. I can only hope that both parties will be able to eventually be okay."

He wraps his arms around himself because Kurt isn't here to do it and he's done it for so long that it's automatic at this point. After a few seconds, she gently rests her head on his shoulder, causing him to tense.

"Is this okay?" she asks in a small voice.

He nods, his throat tight as they sit in silence for a few minutes. Closing his eyes, he hums a song he found the other day and considers suggesting it for Regionals instead.

"I like that song."

He looks down, his cheek resting against the top of her head. "Hm?"

" _If you're lost and alone or you're sinking like a stone, carry on_ ," she sings quietly and there's something charming about her voice like this. It may not be as heart stopping as Mercedes' or Broadway-worthy as Rachel's, but he likes it.

He hears the clicking of heels and whips his head forward as Quinn lifts her head off his shoulder, seeing Ms. Pillsbury with a concerned expression on her face. "Hey guys…are you okay?" She winces, no doubt realizing that it's probably not the best question to ask.

"We're doing okay, I think," Blaine answers, clearing his throat. "Thank you."

"It's true what Principal Figgins said this morning," Ms. Pillsbury says, her tone and eyes so earnest, "you can come to me for anything. Even if it's just to sit and not say anything."

"Actually, I have a…suggestion. Request, really," Quinn blurts.

Ms. Pillsbury quirks her head to the side and smiles encouragingly, almost making him reconsider his stance on therapy.

"I was thinking that maybe we should have a therapy circle of sorts. The God Squad had one, but maybe one for others who don't share our beliefs would benefit from one to talk about…what's happened."

Blaine thinks that's a pretty nice way of putting it.

Ms. Pillsbury nods. "That's a great idea, Quinn. I can talk to the other faculty members about opening discussions."

Quinn smiles. "I think it will really be helpful."

The bell then rings, signaling the end of the lunch period. "Well, I'll definitely do that. Thank you, Quinn." Ms. Pillsbury smiles at them both. "Have a good day and remember – I'm here if you need anything."

"Thank you, Ms. Pillsbury," Blaine says politely.

Once she leaves, Quinn stands up and smooths the back of her skirt. "Thank you for listening."

"Of course," Blaine says, getting to his feet and picking up the half-eaten sandwich and crust from the step.

"You know, most Christians are a lot worse than I am," she admits as they walk to the nearest trashcan. "I don't believe those who commit suicide go to hell."

He forces himself not to shudder. "Never was a fan of homosexuals going to hell, either."

She stops him with a strong grip on his hand before entering the building. "I don't believe that. None of us do," she tells him, her hold on him bordering on painful. He knows she just means the God Squad, but he appreciates hearing it all the same.

He smiles with a wince as he pats her hand with his free one in gratitude. "We should go."

She nods, taking the hint and letting go of his hand. "You can talk to me too, if you want."

He grins, tempted to pull her in for a side-hug, but just settles for basking in the nice feeling of making a new friend. "Thanks."

**

From Kurt Hummel ♥:  
 _Sebastian just sent me a text to meet at the Lima Bean – how did he get my number??? Did you give it to him??_

From Blaine Anderson ♥:  
 _I got the same text! And no, why would I give him your number?_

Blaine's phone buzzes with a new text:

From Santana Lopez:  
 _Yo, cabbage patch baby, that bag of dicks from Dalton just sent me a txt bout meetin at the lima bean – wut is this?_

From Blanderson:  
 _Kurt and I got the same texts – I assume this has to do with Regionals._

From Santana Lopez:  
 _Great cuz I'll chuck a latte in his face – c how he likes getting shit in his eyes._

From Blanderson:  
 _I don't think that's necessary, but we can't let him get away with blackmailing Rachel._

From Santana Lopez:  
 _The bitch is going down._

From Kurt Hummel ♥:  
 _We're definitely putting a stop to his horrible, scheming ways._

From Kurt Hummel ♥:  
 _And you're going to back us up, right?_

Blaine's a little offended that Kurt would think that he'd let the slushie incident slide, but he supposes that there's a basis to it.

From Blaine Anderson ♥:  
 _Of course. I'll meet you outside of your French classroom xo_

From Santana Lopez:  
 _K Britt is coming so u have 2 drive us in the nanny wagon._

From Blanderson:  
 _Must you hate on the Volvo? It's my baby._

From Santana Lopez:  
 _It belongs 2 a family of 4 with 2 brats drooling in the backseat._

From Santana Lopez:  
 _But I suppose u have stains of a different sort back there._

Blaine flushes so much that he's pretty sure his cheeks are on fire.

From Blanderson:  
 _I'll have you know that my car is spotless!!!_

From Santana Lopez:  
 _Hahaha later dweeb_

From Blaine Anderson ♥:  
 _Santana got a text also and is bringing Brittany along, so we'll have to meet up with them._

From Kurt Hummel ♥:  
 _Looking forward to it. See you later xo_

From Blaine Anderson ♥:  
 _xoxo_

**

While the car-ride to the Lima Bean was loud and full of "worst-case scenario" reenactments and teaching Brittany about the difference between biscuits and biscotti (it doesn't go well), the car-ride back to McKinley to drop Santana and Brittany off is painfully silent, everyone thinking of the same thing.

Maybe they should be talking about this – Karofsky, being bullied, bullying, that dark and somehow appealing idea of making all this pain go away – since they're the only openly queer people at McKinley, but they don't. They're not nearly as close as they seemed ganging up on Sebastian and it's slapping Blaine in the face that he may be friends with these people, but like most of the Warblers, they're not close.

He kind of hoped that wouldn't be the case here, but maybe this is because that's who Blaine _is_.

The thought unsettles him because he had expectations to grow and change into a person he could truly admire, which hasn't happened.

Blaine and Kurt get out of the car even though they really don't have to when they park next to Santana's. Blaine considers planning a get together, but it'll just be contrived and someone out of the four will cancel and it won't happen anyway.

Brittany hugs Blaine and Kurt with a chipper, "See you tomorrow!"

Santana gives a parting smile to Kurt and a hand sneakily rests on Blaine's back for a few seconds when she looks at Blaine.

He doesn't want to think about the gesture and what it means.

Blaine drives Kurt to the Hummel-Hudson house since Finn drove Kurt to school that morning. The ride is quiet – the radio left untouched – and it makes Blaine grip the steering wheel tighter.

He wonders if Kurt buys it – Sebastian's change of heart – but he doesn't want to ask because he's not sure how to talk to him if he _doesn't_. But he's able to brush it aside for now because they have more important things to discuss, like the fact that they _haven't_ talked in so long (by their terms) and why Kurt is causing it.

Burt is the only one home and he just greets Kurt and Blaine with a barely-there smile. He doesn't ask if they're okay because he knows they're not, but he doesn't say he's there for them because it's one of those unsaid things in the Hummel household that Blaine is too jealous of sometimes.

They close the door halfway and Kurt sits on the edge of his bed, looking down at his hands on his lap with a vacant expression.

Blaine clears his throat, not liking that he has to be the one to break the silence. "I heard you went to the God Squad meeting yesterday." Blaine figures sounding confused gets his feelings about the matter across without elaboration. "Why?"

"Just…" Kurt sighs, not looking up, "I just wanted somewhere to go that would listen to what I had to say."

"I always listen to you. Your dad always listens to you," Blaine responds, trying not to let his hurt feelings come across. "You don't believe in God."

"You wouldn't have listened to me."

Blaine clenches his jaw. "Listening to your blaming yourself over Karofsky's decision? You shouldn't."

Kurt shakes his head and Blaine purses his lips. Maybe another time when Kurt is the one willing to listen.

"So you had lunch with Quinn. Why?" Kurt asks after a beat, his tone pretty lifeless.

Blaine shrugs, taking a seat next to Kurt. "I bumped into her in the hallway and thought maybe she could use a friend."

"But you two aren't friends."

Blaine narrows his eyes at Kurt's bluntness. "No," he agrees, "but I like to think we're getting there. Her heart is in the right place."

Kurt shakes his head, looking down at his lap. "She's privileged and entitled."

"That doesn't mean she's incapable of understanding pain or grief."

"Well she certainly doesn't understand David's pain," Kurt snaps, eyes tearing up. "She's a pretty, straight girl who's going to Yale and as I told her, the world loves her."

Blaine closes his eyes and forces himself to breathe evenly. "Even if that was true – about the world loving her – that doesn't mean _she_ always loves herself. That's something that everyone can understand – straight or not."

Kurt snorts indelicately, getting to his feet and pacing around. "I know you don't like David, but I can't believe you're siding with _Quinn –_ "

"You're right. I don't like Karofsky. He's done some awful things to you and I can't look past it," Blaine interrupts him sharply. "I admire your ability to forgive him. I do. But all this doesn't excuse your trivializing Quinn's problems –"

"Her _temporary_ problems – she's not pregnant now, is she? She wasn't _born_ pregnant, right? It's not nearly the same as being gay and suffering for it. We had _no choice_ in the matter."

"I doubt she _chose_ to get pregnant – she made a mistake and paid for it in spades. She may not be pregnant anymore, but that doesn't mean what she went through during that time went away either. Losing her parents' acceptance, being kicked out of her house – that's _always_ going to stay with her," he retorts, his anger flaring in his gut, his ribs aching with a ghost pain and he unconsciously puts a hand to them.

Kurt catches the movement and says, "That happened to you because you're gay, Blaine," with an apologetic expression that Blaine can't help as seeing as condescending, which makes him _furious_.

"It's not permanent but it scarred me – I still have nightmares about it. Quinn probably does too about what she went through. And you can't talk about what happened to me like you _know_ because you really don't, Kurt."

"Oh, _now_ you want to start comparing battle scars? You can't have your cake and eat it too," Kurt replies with venom.

Blaine gets to his feet in an automatic desire to just walk away at least until he can think clearer, but –

"Oh here we go, and now Blaine Anderson will stalk off with what's left his pride and revisit the conversation when it's convenient for him," Kurt mocks him, fists curled at his sides.

"At least it's better than acting like an entitled jackass about things you can't possibly understand," Blaine snaps.

"Oh, and Quinn is an exception to this? She said his suicide was _selfish_."

"It _was_ , Kurt," Blaine says in a loud voice before he can reel himself back. "He wasn't thinking about how his mom or dad would react to finding him _swinging on a belt in his closet_. He was only concerned about how hopeless he felt. He made a _choice_ to leave those who cared about him behind – _including you_."

Kurt turns ghostly white at Blaine words and doesn't say anything for a few seconds until, "Well not everyone can afford to be as selfless and saintly as you," is uttered.

Blaine bites his bottom lip hard, but tears are filling his eyes anyway as he walks out of Kurt's room, wishing he did it a minute ago before he turned into a total _asshole_. He hopes to quickly grab his satchel and coat from the family room without having to see Carole or Burt, but of course, Burt is sitting on the couch, reading over some papers, and he looks up when Blaine reaches the bottom step.

"Hey…you boys okay?" Burt asks slowly.

Blaine wants to say something, _anything_ to just get him to stop staring at him like that, like he's trying to read his mind; he wants to hide in his room and regroup in peace. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hummel," Blaine just says, his voice cracking as he swings his satchel over his shoulder, bunches his coat under his arm and leaves the house.

At least he makes it off Kurt's street before he really starts crying.

**

Blaine thinks about calling Kurt – he should, he knows that, but he doesn't know if it's a misplaced sense of pride that's keeping him from dialing Kurt's number, or maybe the fear of confrontation.

Blaine's always stupidly scared about Kurt finding something in him that he not only won't like, but also won't be able to accept.

It keeps him awake sometimes and makes him restless, itching for a place to go and things to do that aren't available in Ohio. He imagines this feeling is like Kurt's when he thinks about New York; Blaine would take any city, to be honest.

(He doesn't call, but he sends an apology and an _I-love-you_ text before midnight, turning his phone off so he won't torture himself waiting for a response that he knows he won't get until the morning anyway.)

**

Since his phone was off the entire night, he ends up using his old alarm clock from middle school, which makes the most shrilling and obnoxious noise, something he forgot until it almost makes him roll off the bed in surprise.

 _Waking up like you're having a heart attack is really not the best way to start the morning_ , he thinks to himself as he slams his hand down on the off button.

He's halfway through his morning routine, a comb sculpting through his gelled hair when he remembers to turn on his phone. Stumbling out of the bathroom, he rushes to his nightstand until he remembers that his hands are coated with gel and would probably damage his phone beyond repair if he touched it.

So he does his best to quickly finish his hair and wash his hands before turning his phone back on. As he waits for in coming texts, he picks out a simple outfit again, wondering if wearing a polo shirt for a second day in a row would annoy Kurt, even though he was wearing a blazer over it yesterday –

Or maybe he shouldn't care because it's not like Kurt's forgiveness depends on his wearing the right clothes anyway.

As he's stuffing his shirt into his trousers, his phone buzzes with two texts, one sent last night at two in the morning, and the other sent not even two minutes ago:

From Kurt Hummel ♥:  
 _I'm sorry too – I love you xoxo_

From Kurt Hummel ♥:  
 _Can we talk after school?_

Blaine takes a deep breath, feeling lighter but not ready to smile yet.

From Blaine Anderson ♥:  
 _Of course – see you there xox_

**

Blaine really, really doesn't want to be here.

He thinks it's a great idea – Quinn's idea of a therapy circle with the rest of glee club – but this isn't what he likes to do. This isn't what he _does_. But it's not like he can leave because even though Mr. Schue is worried about all his students, he just _knows_ that Mr. Schue is paying special attention to the resident gays of Lima, Ohio.

His fingers itch with the desire to curl into fists, but he doesn't have time to use the weight room because talking with Kurt is infinitely more important.

First he just has to get through this circle, though.

He understands the lesson Mr. Schue is getting across and it's a good one, but he just doesn't want to hear about Mr. Schue's experience with suicidal thoughts – the fear of disappointing his father hitting a little too close to the vest. So he tries to focus on other things, like the way he can sort of see Kurt's collarbone despite the scarf tied around his neck. If he could, he would happily ramble about that, not about fleeting and dark considerations of his past.

"But there's _something_. Everyone has something…that might take them up to that edge."

( _What's_ my _something?_ It's a question that Blaine really hopes he never finds the answer for, ever.)

"So right now, I want you all to think of something that you're looking forward to. Big things."

There really are too many things Blaine is looking forward to, but they're all vague and they alter, depending on the day and the mood and everything else. He's not like Kurt and Rachel, who have a strong sense of exactly where they want to go and do. He shouldn't care because he's seventeen, he's not supposed to know what he wants to do, but sometimes he wishes he did just so he wouldn't feel this sensation of inadequacy whenever he thinks too deeply about it.

To get away from his thoughts, he listens to what everyone is looking forward to – from the thoughtful to the ludicrous to the hopeful to the heartbreaking - and he finds himself saying, "I'm looking forward to marriage equality in all fifty states," and then glancing at Kurt because no matter happens between them, to them, there are certain dreams that are permanent and won't change.

And when Kurt smiles a little, Blaine knows he understands too.

**

There's a matter of rehearsing for Regionals – it seems everyone e-mailed Mr. Schue the night before about possible songs, so Mr. Schue has their set list prepared already. When he finds out he's sharing the rap sections of "Fly" with Santana, Brittany is the one who laughs the loudest. (He always figured she's the smartest of them all.)

"I almost feel guilty – Nicki Minaj is flawless," Santana admits during a five-minute break.

"Don't even talk to me about that."

Santana cackles and squeezes his shoulders just on the side of too tight. "It'll be fine, short-stuff."

"Hey, can I talk to Blaine for a second?"

They whip their heads to see Quinn standing with her hands folded in front of herself, expression hesitant but determined.

"Okay, Troubletones, on stage!" Mr. Schue announces.

"Yeah, Q." Santana brushes by Quinn with a smile, which Quinn returns before focusing on Blaine.

"Hi, Quinn. How are you?" Blaine asks before the silence turns awkward.

"I should be asking you that – I hope I didn't…spark a fight between you and Kurt."

He winces a little. "You didn't, really. We'll be okay. It would've happened regardless, trust me."

She nods, but doesn't seem to be totally convinced. To be honest, he's not sure if he convinced himself either, but it's not like he could blame someone else for his issues with Kurt.

"That was a cute song you suggested – even though Mr. Schue is probably censoring it into something unrecognizable."

He cocks his head to the side. "What?"

"Didn't you suggest 'Here's to Us'? I thought that was an apology song or something."

He blinks in surprise. "No…I didn't. I didn't suggest any songs – I forgot about it last night."

"Oh. Then I guess it probably was Rachel using yet another competition to showcase her love for Finn."

He has try very hard not to laugh out loud, but one shared look with Quinn and they both can't breathe as they smother their amusement.

Once they calm down, he feels her gently squeeze his forearm. He wants to say something to her, but maybe it's best to keep his mouth shut and just accept the silent support.

**

By the time they finish with rehearsing for the day, it's seven o'clock and Blaine really wants to shower and sleep, but he still has to talk with Kurt and it _has_ to be done today – he refuses to go through another night without being on good terms with Kurt.

"I like dancing with you," Brittany announces as Blaine shrugs on his coat.

"Really?" Blaine blurts out in surprise before he realizes that isn't the best response. "I mean – I like dancing with you too, Brittany."

"Yeah, you're not bad, which is good."

"Well…thank you. I appreciate it."

She brings a hand up to cup his face, startling him. She's gentle as she strokes a thumb over his cheekbone. "Don't be sad. Everything will be okay."

He smiles even though he didn't think he could, his eyes stinging.

She beams as she drops her hand. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Bye, Brittany."

He watches her skip over to Santana, who holds out her pinky for Brittany to loop with her own. He smiles at their retreating backs until Kurt (he can always tell it's him) gently bumps his arm against his.

"Finn's eating out with Rachel and my dad and Carole won't be back until later – I can make us dinner," Kurt offers.

Blaine nods. "Okay."

They don't lace their hands together, but they still hold on tight as Blaine drives them to Kurt's house.

**

They're sitting across from each other on the table and even though it's small – not nearly as large as the dining room table in the Anderson home – Blaine still feels like there's a football field in between them.

"It's not that I can't sympathize with Karofsky," Blaine starts, wanting to cringe at how _loud_ his voice seems in the homey kitchen. "I know what it's like to be bullied too. Sometimes I feel like you forget that."

Kurt's hold on his chopsticks stiffens. (Halfway to Kurt's house, they decided to pick up sushi instead.) "How can I forget that when every time we have sex I see those scars?" Kurt says in a surprisingly soft voice.

They both don't blush anymore when they talk about sex – it makes Blaine feel like he's a hundred years old, but in a good way.

"It wasn't just… _that_. There was stuff before," Blaine responds.

"You don't talk about it."

"Because every time I do I get angry. I don't _like_ being angry."

Kurt sighs, sounding a hundred years old, but in the worst way possible. "You're allowed. You shouldn't have to… _suppress_ anything for me."

After a few seconds of staring at his plate, Blaine nods in consensus. "Fine. But I'm worried about you. My feelings on his actions don't matter."

"Yes they do –"

"I'm more focused on how _you're_ doing and feeling. He had a big…influence on your life. You've certainly spent more time with him. I've only had those two…lovely experiences of being shoved, so."

Kurt purses his lips and picks at the piece of cucumber sushi on his place. Blaine sits back in his chair and swallows down his emotions that he can't really seem to piece together yet.

"I'm going to visit him," Kurt says a minute later, eyeing him in a way that reminds him of what Quinn did, daring him to fight on it.

"And I don't think you should," Blaine answers lightly.

"Why."

"Because when you go there, seeing him on the hospital bed that somehow makes him look smaller than he actually is will break your heart even more and then he'll say that you aren't responsible for any of it. He shouldn't be the one telling you this. _It's not your fault_. Karofsky is _not_ your responsibility."

"But he's changed."

"He's _changing_ – there's a big difference. He's still trying to find himself and you're not obligated to help him."

"But I want to."

Blaine sighs and shakes his head. "This guy shoved you into lockers, called you horrible things, _kissed_ you against your will, _threatened your life_ , and you can just…"

"You don't have to understand it."

Blaine leans forward and rests his elbows on the table, head in his hands. He can hear Kurt getting up from the chair and walking over to him, eventually wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close so Blaine's head is resting against his stomach.

"He's not worth this," Blaine sighs.

Maybe Kurt somehow understands what Blaine means even though he doesn't understand it himself and just holds him tighter.

**

Regionals is on everyone's mind and everyone is focusing on that because they _have_ to win. (It's also a lot nicer to think about than Karofsky, as terrible as that is.)

Their rehearsals run late and Finn can't seem to get the timing right during the opening number, the harmonies get messed up during one verse of "Stronger" and Mr. Schue keeps trying to tell Rachel to tone down her facial expressions. Blaine practices his raps over and over, infinitely jealous of Santana who has it easier than him, but he doesn't complain out loud because he knows Kurt had hoped for a solo given the success at Sectionals.

Maybe it's stupid to think this way, but he thinks if he can make it to Saturday, he'll be able to breathe easier.

**

Despite the absolute frustration that comes from the members of New Directions clashing, he can't help but be in awe of how they come together when it really matters.

(It almost makes him feel like he's really a part of it now.)

And while Rachel is singing alone on stage, Kurt murmurs in his ear that this song is for him, and he can't stop smiling on the balcony where no one can touch them.

**

The name is called and they _won_ , the trophy is being passed around and he feels like he lost still. Maybe that's why he goes over to the Warblers and shakes Sebastian's hand.

"Beat it, Anderson," Sebastian drawls with a growing smirk on his face, but his eyes are kind as he stares over Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine is jerked backwards by a tug on the back of his shirt. Quinn pulls him in for a side-hug and whispers in his ear, "Enjoy it – you deserve it."

**

Kurt leads him down the hallway by the hand and says, "I didn't think you and Quinn would become friends, to be honest," after they pass her.

Just because the hallways are deserted, Blaine sneaks a quick kiss to Kurt's cheek. "New Directions consists of the most random people and yet they – _we_ – just pulled that off. We could get along all the time if we just find the right balance."

Kurt stares at Blaine in slight awe and sometimes it's nice to be reminded that they're still capable of this wonderful kind of give and take.

( _Stuck it out this far together, put our dreams through the shredder, let's toast 'cause things got better._ )

**

Kurt is taking the time to visit Karofsky at the hospital and this is Blaine's fifth attempt on fixing his tie.

It's not even about Kurt and Karofsky being in the same room – he knows that the bullying is over and that Karofsky won't exactly be in the state of mind to romance Kurt inappropriately – it's that Blaine can't help but feel that Karofsky is about to get some sort of twisted _reward_ out of all this.

Maybe it's a really messed up way of thinking about it – his view on suicide is different from Kurt's and Kurt can't see it this way, that Karofsky almost ends his life and negatively affects everyone in his life, but out of it, he gets Kurt's support and help.

(What about those who are sent to hospital because of _others_ (three people) and don't have someone sitting by their bedsides?)

He's been trying to be more open-minded for Kurt's sake, but it's not going very well.

( _Just breathe; soon it will be over_.)

Blaine may see suicide as selfish, but he realizes that it's not an act of weakness. There's a certain amount of strength required to swallow a bottle of pills or pull a trigger or…step off a chair to hang. Human beings are all inherently scared of death – it goes against everything in our nature to let ourselves die. But to really make that final act must be the scariest thing in the entire universe.

He closes his eyes and drops his arms to feel each mouthful of air expand his lungs.

**

As New Directions rushes through the hospital, Kurt whips his head to glance at a room and doesn't look away until he almost steps on Tina's heels.

"What was that?" Blaine asks.

"Oh, just…David's room."

Blaine has to force himself to not look back.

**

Rachel can't stop crying and Finn is holding her, a permanently shocked expression on his face. Brittany and Santana and curled into each other, their faces pale and hands laced together so tightly that Blaine can see the whites of the knuckles. Everyone else is alternating between sitting and pacing, occasionally leaving to get coffee and snacks.

Blaine has to get out of here.

"I'm going to get coffee or something – do you want anything?"

Kurt opens his mouth – no doubt to mention that coffee probably isn't the best idea for Blaine, who's been vibrating in his chair for the last hour or so – but he eventually closes it, shaking his head. "No, I'm fine."

Blaine nods and gets up, striding quickly out into a corridor. He thinks he's going the wrong way, but no one seems to question him as he wanders through the halls, walking purposefully without a real purpose.

Until he ends up in front of Karofsky's room.

He should continue walking, or at least go up to a nice-looking nurse and ask for directions, but –

Blaine knocks twice and cautiously opens the door, relieved and disappointed at the same time that no one else is visiting Karofsky.

(Jesus, he actually _does_ look small in this room, in that bed.)

"Blaine?" Karofsky says, his voice so faint making the suicide so _real_ and his cheeks are blotchy red in what Blaine assumes to be embarrassment.

_Good, he should feel embarrassed_ , Blaine can't help but think as he steps inside and shuts the door behind him. It's a nasty side of him that he's usually ashamed of, but he's feeling more worn out than usual, given the circumstances.

They stare at each other for a few tense moments before Blaine says, "Quinn's in the hospital," to explain why he's here.

Karofsky's eyes widen. "What happened?"

"She was in a bad car accident. We're…not sure how she's doing right now."

"That's awful."

Blaine nods his head, eyeing the chair under the window and he can imagine Kurt pulling it out so he's sitting close to Karofsky, maybe close enough to lay a comforting hand over Karofsky's.

The thought makes him so _sick_ because it's really not fair.

(Why does _he_ get this support and love when it was _his choice_ to be here when Blaine had _no one_?)

Even so, he was groomed to be a Dalton man, or at least a kind of Dalton man that he idealized in his head, and he pulls out the chair, keeping a good distance between them, and sitting down so they're on equal ground.

"I'm sorry," Blaine says after a minute. "I would never wish for anyone to feel the way you felt."

Karofsky nods.

The silence that follows is unbearably awkward.

"Not to be rude or anything, but…you must not like me. I wouldn't like me either if I were you. So why are you here?" Karofsky winces afterwards, his hand twitching to touch his throat, but he just grips the blanket instead.

Blaine looks down his oxfords and gathers his thoughts. "I…uh…" He shakes his head, trying to hold back a smile that probably makes him look a little nuts. "I think I'm jealous of you. For lack of a more appropriate term."

Karofsky's eyes widen and his jaw drops a little. " _What_? But –"

"It's more like my fifteen-year-old self is jealous, but. Essentially that's what it is." Blaine looks around the room for a few seconds. It's not totally similar to the room he was in years ago, but the resemblance is close enough to make him feel phantom aches in his ribs and he can feel the beginnings of a headache behind his eyes.

"I just…" Blaine closes his eyes and breathes. "You're so…lucky," he finally says, his voice quavering on the last word, "that you have Kurt right now. I just…want you to realize that."

Karofsky seems to know what he means by nodding. "I know." He furrows his brow. "Did you –?"

"No," Blaine interrupts him, standing up. "I was in the hospital under different circumstances."

Karofsky doesn't understand but Blaine knows as soon as he walks out that door, he'll figure it out.

"I hope you get better soon." Blaine can't quite bring himself to call Karofsky by his first name, but his last name isn't really enough, so he leaves it be and puts the chair back where it was.

"Hey, uh, I'm sorry about Valentine's Day –"

Blaine pauses with his hand on the door handle. "Please, it's…apology accepted," he resigns himself, not having the energy to talk with Karofsky in a polite and civilized way anymore. He waves goodbye, which Karofsky responds with one of his own.

Once Blaine shuts the door, he doesn't give himself time to breathe before he finds the first nurse and asks with his most charming smile if he knew where he could buy coffee.

**

"You were gone a while," Kurt murmurs when Blaine sits down with a cup of watery hot chocolate.

"Got a little lost."

Kurt knows when he's fudging the truth, so Blaine doesn't know why he bothers trying. He hopes that Kurt will let it go, but then Kurt asks, "How's David?"

Blaine has to bite his tongue so he wouldn't retort that he just saw _David_ not even a few hours ago. "Fine."

Kurt looks at him with a piercing gaze that hurts Blaine for a different reason.

"You know me better than that, Kurt."

Kurt has the decency to look embarrassed and squeezes Blaine's knee in apology.

Blaine sighs and places his free hand on top of Kurt's, holding on as tightly as he can because he's not going to have time to breathe, jumping from one tragedy to another, but he supposes that's how life tends to work, doesn't it.

Still, he forces himself to close his eyes and –


End file.
